


Surfacing

by crazyparakiss



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 20:50:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3148145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyparakiss/pseuds/crazyparakiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She feels most alive when almost drowning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surfacing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Dysfuncentine on livejournal during 2011. 
> 
> The prompt I chose was:   
> "Staying together for their child or children." 
> 
> Warnings:   
> Brief mentions of sex, allusions to cutting, suicide, and lots of talk of drowning. 
> 
> Lastly: 
> 
> Short and bleak, you will find no happy ending here.

  
  
Slowly her head dips into the water—dark crimson fanning out around her like ribbons of blood. When she surfaces she thinks she can do the unthinkable. It wouldn’t be so hard, she has a wand, and she could transfigure the soap, or the washcloth into a knife. No it wouldn’t be hard, the option of death would be too easy and so she buries the thought as she slips beneath the water once more.   
  
  
Albus asks why she’s always in the tub and she has no answer. Lily demands attention and she wearily reaches down to stroke the girl’s cheek. James is yelling about his protesting stomach, wanting another snack. 

  
  
Hermione doesn’t understand her. She tries, certainly, but the listening and her comforting words are made false by Hermione’s condescending appraisal of Ginny’s face.   
  
“You’re unhappy,” she says it as if it’s the wrong reason to want to leave.   
  
“Aren’t you,” Ginny counters.   
  
Stiffly Hermione says, “No, there are days I don’t like Ron, certainly, but I’m not unhappy. Especially when he’s being a good husband.” Ah, there it was—Harry is a good husband and so he has no faults. Hermione likes to believe she’s forward thinking, but Ginny finds her as old-fashioned as her mum; this discussion with her is pointless.   
  
“Forget it,” Ginny says, rising from a seat at Ron and Hermione’s table. “I’ve got to get back.” 

  
  
She can see through the water. The ceiling is deformed and bubbles from her nose make it warp further. She’s seeing her life at a different angle—the true angle, as she’s come to call it in her mind.   
  
Harry appears and looks down at her, his grin is rippling and his words are distorted garble she doesn’t care to hear. She surfaces, and a great gasping breath permeates the air.   
  
“The kids thought you were drowning,” he says with a worrying glance. She turns her gaze to her freckled knees, fighting to keep from rolling her eyes. “Is everything alright, Gin?”   
  
Is it, isn’t it? What does she know? Ron called for her earlier this evening, asking after the talk she’d asked Hermione to keep private. Nothing is private in a family full of busy-bodies. She shrinks away from his cool hand as it touches her warm skin, and Harry’s frown deepens. Maybe he knows.   
  
“You hardly let me hold you anymore.”   
  
She’s much too tired to tell him why. 

  
When she exits the bath Albus asks why she’s always in the tub, and she has no answer. Lily demands attention and she wearily reaches down to stroke the girl’s cheek. James is yelling about his protesting stomach, wanting another snack.   
  
Harry laughs and leads them towards the dining room promising James that dinner is about to be made. Ginny slips a robe over her gown before she joins them—going to do her duties.   
  


  
Mum looks at Ginny in a way which reminds Ginny of Hermione.   
  
“You want to leave,” Mum says with a careful tone.   
  
Ginny nods.   
  
With a sigh heaving her heavy bosom Mum stands to fetch them more tea, “That’s terribly foolish, and your reasons are hardly cause for divorce, Ginny.”   
  
Ginny was expecting as much, and what else could she expect from a woman who has always been happy and settled in her roles. What could she expect, what did she expect?   
  
Mum is speaking again. “I’ve not always loved your father, but I’m still here and I’m still working hard to keep this going.”   
  
That takes Ginny by surprise, words she’s not been expecting falling into the room—leaving them together in tense silence when the words desert them.   
  
“Why are you here then?”   
  
Mum sits with her steaming mug of tea, and sets a cup before Ginny as she sighs, “Oh, you lot of course. It was when Percy was born, that’s when I realised my mistake.”   
  
“And you had more children?”   
  
“Sometimes, when you’re foolish, you believe babies will fix things,” she replies with foggy eyes. “My point is, Gin; you can’t uproot their lives just because you’re unhappy.” With a falsely cheery smile she adds, “And Harry’s good to you. He’s nice and doesn’t hurt you and he’s a wonderful father.”   
  
Yes Harry’s good  _to_  her—doesn’t mean he’s good  _for_  her. And yes. He’s a wonderful father, but she’s not a child and she doesn’t need a father. Mum’s palm covers the back of her hand and Ginny looks up. “Go home to him, Ginny, make love to him, and try to remember why you married him in the first place.”   
  
“Is that what you do?”   
  
“Every day, dear; every day I try to remember why I love your father.” Ginny swallows her fears—the ones telling her she’ll be happier if she ignores her mother’s advice.   
  


  
Harry holds her, but his touch is cool and doesn’t cause a shiver of tingles to race down her spine. Her skin doesn’t itch pleasantly and she wonders who she is trying to fool more when she  _comes_ : Harry or herself.   
  


  
There is banging on the bathroom door. It sounds similar to a muted drum in her water logged ears. Her lungs are burning, but she doesn’t want to surface yet. The world is cruel outside where she can hear and touch.   
  
She breaches the surface; water sliding down the sides of the tub as she smoothes her hair back with her hands. The kids are laughing in the sitting room, and she wraps her robe around her wet skin.   
  
  
Albus asks why she’s always in the tub, and she knows the answer—because she’s lonely, because she’s tired of feeling cold, because she feels more alive when almost drowning. Lily demands attention and she wearily reaches down to stroke the girl’s cheek, wishing that for once Lily would just go away. James is yelling about his protesting stomach, wanting another snack, and Ginny wishes she could just leave. Leave all of this to Harry and find another world.   
  
So tomorrow she’ll try drowning herself in the bath and enjoy the moments of peace before she has to surface once again.   
  
  


-End-


End file.
